Birthday Boy
by Smackalicious
Summary: It's McGee's birthday. What sorts of things will his co-workers dream up to surprise him? Oneshot. Crack!fic.


**Title: Birthday Boy**  
**Pairing: None.**  
**Rating: FR15**  
**Genre: Gen**  
**Cat: Crack!fic, Friendship, Humor**  
**Spoilers: Um, incredibly minor one for Capitol Offense, I guess. A couple of other minor references, as well.**  
**Warnings: Insanity?**  
**Summary: It's McGee's birthday. What sorts of things will his co-workers dream up to surprise him?**  
**Author's Note: I wrote this back in 2009, after a comment someone had left on one of my challenges on NFA.**

* * *

McGee stared at the increasing numbers on the elevator as he rode up to the squad room. He had to admit he was not looking forward to work today, because of what was probably waiting for him once he got to his desk. He just hoped for everyone's sakes that Abby wasn't there yet.

The elevator dinged its' arrival to the squad room and he swallowed hard. Time for the moment of truth. The doors shushed open, and he swore he heard a tone of snarky laughter in the sound they made. He sneered at the doors, but exited the elevator anyway. He would deal with the elevator later. That car had a bad attitude ever since Gibbs had designated it as his conference room.

As he turned the corner and his co-workers saw him - minus Abby, thank goodness for him - and Ziva immediately bounded from behind her desk, running towards him. His eyes widened and he was tempted to run back to the sarcastic elevator, but his feet were glued to the floor.

Ziva launched herself at him in a style very Abby in nature. Maybe they had switched bodies for the day . . .

"Happy birthday, McGee!" she exclaimed, hugging the life out of him and snuggling him and making weird purring noises.

McGee struggled for breath, and finally choked out, "Thanks, Ziva. I can't . . . I can't breathe . . ."

She kept her grip on him, now swaying back and forth and humming to herself. McGee shot a worried look over her shoulder to Tony, who walked over and announced, "Okay, David. Off the Probie," before physically removing her arms from him.

Ziva glared at him and made some strange motion with her hand, that mimicked using a paper clip to kill him. He gave her a weird look, then turned back to McGee. "You okay?"

McGee nodded as he gulped in deep breaths of air. "Yeah. Thanks, Tony."

"No problem," Tony responded, and there was a moment of silence . . . before Tony engulfed McGee in his own version of an Abby hug. "I've always wanted to do this! You're like a teddy bear, all soft and cuddly, and squishy, too!"

"Tony!" McGee exclaimed, too shocked by his behavior to say much else. "What the hell are you doing?" he finally asked.

Tony lifted his head from McGee's shoulder to look at him. "Giving you a hug, duh," he responded, then returned his head to McGee's shoulder, letting out a soft sigh of happiness.

McGee wrinkled his forehead. This was turning out even weirder than he had expected. But Tony dropped his arms from McGee as soon as he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"You two done playing grab ass?"

Tony spun to face Gibbs. "Uh, well . . ." he stuttered, then pointed at Ziva's desk. "She started it!" He quickly ran back to his own desk, cowering behind it to protect himself from the scorn of a pissed off Mossad officer with office supplies.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, then looked at McGee, who was still looking a bit wary. He hadn't expected Ziva's and Tony's . . . _greetings_ this morning, and who knew what Gibbs would do. Gibbs saw the look of concern on his face and chuckled, walking toward him.

"I'm not going to hug you, McGee," he said, and McGee exhaled a sigh of relief. At least Gibbs was acting normal.

As Gibbs walked past McGee, however, he reached over and delivered a soft swat to the agent's rear end, causing McGee's eyes to bulge. "I told you it wouldn't be on the head," he murmured to him.

"Uh, Boss?" Tony spoke up, poking his head over his desk. "That wasn't McGee."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't? Damn." He reached over to McGee again, causing McGee to flinch, and petted him gently on the back of the head. "Sorry, Tim." He then leaned in closer, whispering, "Though I can see why Ziva gave you a 4 out of 5." He walked away then, to the sound of McGee whimpering in fear.

As the elevator dinged shut behind Gibbs, its soft snickering wafting over to McGee, he scowled at the laughter and looked back to his co-workers. Ziva was sitting primly at her desk, hands folded in front of her, and Tony was still hunched behind his chair, peeking over the top of his desk. He gave them a shaky smile.

"I do believe Abby has something for you in her lab," Ziva said, now twirling a pen between her fingers.

McGee tried not to let his worry show. "Do I have to go down there right now? I mean, you know, I'm sure Gibbs wants us to get some work done . . ."

"She said to send you down as soon as you got here," Tony piped up from his hiding place. "But then Ziva had to go and molest you . . ."

"I wanted to be the first to wish him a happy birthday," Ziva hissed in return, and whipped her pen at him, making him yelp and cover his head.

"Um, well, thank you, Ziva," McGee said, and she gave him a seductive smile. He nodded at her and then looked over to Tony. "Hey, uh, Tony, want to come with me to Abby's lab?"

"I will go with you," Ziva said, suddenly appearing at his side and grasping his hand in hers.

McGee continued to look in Tony's direction. "Tony?" he asked, hoping for once that the other man would come with him.

Tony stretched his arms over his head and stood. "Aw, I suppose. I can't resist a Probie in distress." He walked over to the duo, sliding into step beside McGee as they started the walk to the elevator and slipping his hand into McGee's other hand.

As the elevator doors giggled their way shut, McGee was nearly in tears.

A few minutes later, the elevator was laughing hysterically as its doors slid open, revealing a singing Tony and Ziva, and an extremely uncomfortable McGee. Tony and Ziva were singing their own version of the birthday song, complete with their own verses about happy birthday to Probalicious and Thom E. Gemcity, too. They stopped singing when they arrived at the doors of the lab and saw what Abby had in store for McGee.

"Whoa," Tony breathed as he stared into the lab. Ziva was similarly impressed.

"I was not expecting that," she confessed. Both of them turned to McGee to see his reaction.

His eyes were wide, but he was smiling. He dropped both their hands as he stepped into the lab, walking slowly towards Abby's surprise.

It was a huge birthday cake, nearly the size of McGee himself. The cake was constructed in graduated layers, growing smaller the higher they rose, and covered in a luscious looking frosting. Piped around the middle layer of the cake were the words, "Happy Birthday, Timmy!" surrounded by icing guns and pens, to illustrate the two different aspects of McGee's professional life.

"Wow," McGee said, slowly nearing the huge cake. He stopped right before he reached it, though, as he realized something was missing. Looking around the lab, he asked to no one in particular, "Where's Abby?"

As if on cue, the top of the cake suddenly exploded, covering McGee in chunks of frosting and cake. He stumbled backward as he tried to make out what had happened, and when he looked at the cake again, he saw . . .

"Abby?" Tony gasped in the background.

Indeed, the lab technician had appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of the cake, clad in a leather dominatrix outfit. She pouted slick red lips at McGee. "Happy birthday, Timmy," she purred, and before McGee could say or do anything, she was launching herself from the cake and at him, knocking him down to the floor and straddling his lap.

McGee squirmed under her. "Abby, what are you doing?" he asked, suddenly feeling very worried.

"Giving you your birthday present, of course," she said, and leaned down to kiss him.

"No!" they heard from the door, and Ziva came barreling at them, yanking Abby off McGee and leaving everyone aside from her with shocked looks on their faces. "I will not allow you to . . . dominate poor McGee! He is fragile! Besides, if anyone is going to do any dominating of anyone around here, it is me." She finished her statement with a growl and a glare.

Abby returned the glare. "Oh, you think so, David?" She poked a finger into Ziva's chest. "This is _my _turf, and if I want to make Timmy my sex slave, I have every right!"

"I spend more time with him," Ziva growled. "Therefore, I think I outrank you and claim him as _my _sex slave!"

On the floor, McGee felt as though his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Holy crap. Abby and Ziva _both _wanted to make _him _their sex slave? This was just . . . It was mind-boggling.

"Ladies, ladies," Tony said from the other side of the room, then stepped over to them. "I'm sure we can resolve this all in a mature fashion. For example," he pointed to himself, "I would be glad to provide you two with any sexual services you wished."

Ziva and Abby both reached out and punched him in the chest, with Abby exclaiming, "This isn't about you, Tony."

"Yes," Ziva agreed, turning her attention back to the man of the day, who was still sitting in a daze on the floor. "This is entirely about McGee." She pouted at him and then licked her lips.

"Well, maybe you should ask him what he wants," Tony suggested, and was met with more glares. "Sorry. I guess I'll just let you return to the birthday boy." He shot a glare of his own at McGee, who shrugged. This wasn't _his _idea!

"So, what'll it be, David?" Abby asked. She had pulled a whip from inside one of her thigh-high boots and was slapping it gently against her hand. "Will you submit or do we fight?"

Ziva smirked. "I submit to no one."

Abby raised an eyebrow, and couldn't keep her own smirk off her face. "Then it's settled." She cracked the whip at her side, causing McGee to flinch and roll out of the way. "Battle shall commence."

"Wait!" McGee cried out from his position a few feet away, where he was curled into a ball for protection. The two women looked over at him. "You don't . . . You don't have to fight. I'll . . ." he nodded, more to himself than to them, "I'll give myself over willingly to you. Both of you," he quickly added. Both the women pouted. "Take it or leave it."

Ziva looked to Abby. "I suppose I can share. He _is _big enough for both of us."

"Hey!" McGee said, and Abby walked closer, positioning a boot over his face. He quickly quieted down.

Abby turned back to Ziva. "Acceptable. We'll trade weekends, you get him when you're off on a case, and I get him when I need help down here." She stuck out a hand and Ziva took it and the two women shook.

But when they looked back to McGee, they found him now laying flat on his back, his eyes closed. He was out cold. What had happened?

Abby and Ziva bent over to shake him back to consciousness, as Tony stood over them all, calling to him.

"McGee! Yo, Probie! Wake up! McGee!"

McGee grumbled as he heard Tony's voice and felt hands shaking him. "No, go 'way," he muttered, just wanting to _sleep_.

"Gibbs is coming," he heard next, and shot up, looking around in worry.

"Where?" he gasped. He looked around. He was back in the squad room. When he didn't see anything besides a snickering Tony, he glared. "You tricked me."

Tony grinned. "You seemed rather into whatever little fantasy you were having there, McDreamer. What was it? Anything good?"

McGee attempted to hide his embarrassment at being caught. "I was not fantasizing, Tony." _Definitely not about Gibbs grabbing my ass, ugh_, he added to himself. He stood up, tugging on the lapels of his blazer, and announced, "Now if you don't mind . . ."

Before he could finish his thought, however, a high-pitched squeal pierced the squad room and he turned to see a bouncing Abby running from the elevator, followed by a slightly less exuberant, but still excited, Ziva, who was carrying a small birthday cake.

"Happy birthday, Timmy!" Abby exclaimed, launching herself at him in a big hug, then lowering herself to the ground and kissing him on the cheek.

Ziva walked to his other side and echoed Abby's kiss and said, "Happy birthday. We got you a little something."

He looked down and laughed, seeing the "cake" was indeed a series of cupcakes - one for each of them. Tony, feeling left out of all the action, spoke up.

"Somebody was just napping and having a very steamy fantasy not five minutes before you two arrived," he said, looking smug.

"Oh?" Ziva asked, looking to McGee. She gave him a sneaky look. "Is that true?"

"Yeah, and if so, tell me all about it," Abby said, smiling devilishly.

McGee shook his head and smiled at them. "It was nothing, Abbs. Besides, I don't need fantasies. I've got reality." He placed an arm around each of the women, giving them each a squeeze.

"And I," Tony added, walking up to them, "have got a cupcake!" He grabbed one of the treats and ran off, causing Abby and Ziva to gasp.

"That little monkey!" Ziva exclaimed, while Abby simply stomped her feet. Ziva turned to her. "Let's get him!" Abby clapped her hands and the two of them ran after the cupcake thief, as McGee looked down at the tray in his hands. Oh yeah. This was _way _better than that dream.

Though he had to admit . . . being a sex slave didn't sound _that _bad.

**THE END!**


End file.
